


I wake up alone

by obviouslyelementary



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [12]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, heavy regrets, wake up alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslyelementary/pseuds/obviouslyelementary
Summary: And I wake up alone.





	I wake up alone

I wake up alone

 

Oswald loved him.

 

Oswald loved him, as he shot him.

 

He shot him right after receiving an honest, true proof that Oswald was capable of loving someone else.

 

That he was capable of giving up his power and everything he ever wanted for someone that he loved.

 

That he was able to love... him.

 

Edward felt that same, tiring feeling in his guts. If he had his drugs, he would have thrown one inside his mouth just for the kicks of it. It was almost automatic. Instead he reached for some mint candies and popped one in his mouth, closing his eyes out of self hate.

 

He should have kept at least one more pill.

 

The guilt consumed him whole.

 

It tightened his throat, making him desperate for air. His heart squeezed inside his chest, painfully. Everything felt like drowning. He hated it. He hated it because he shared that with all parts with his inner self.

 

He could feel the Riddler laughing at him. Alone death by his hands. Another point for the Riddler while he, Edward, suffered the consequences for his own acts.

 

He would have given everything to turn back time and stop himself from doing such a stupid decision. But it was so late. Out of pity revenge, he shot Oswald by the river, and threw him inside, and he drowned away in Edward’s own regrets.

 

He wanted him back... desperately.

 

The tears rose to his eyes as they hadn’t for years. He didn’t even remember the last time he had cried. But there he was, alone and pathetic on his bed, reaching out for a pillow and curling himself around it. He dug space in it for his face and cried against it, pretending it was a warm body he could comfort himself with.

 

It hurt him... so very much.

 

But there was nothing he could do now.

 

What was done was done.

 

And the song repeated in his head.

 

Sang by Oswald.

 

Meant for him.

 

“He's fierce in my dreams, seizing my guts

 

He floats me with dread

 

Soaked in soul

 

He swims in my eyes by the bed

 

Pour myself over him

 

Moon spilling in

 

And I wake up alone”


End file.
